Believers
by waffles and blueberries
Summary: Arcade and the Remnants take it upon themselves to smuggle people out of the Vegas area to try and protect them from the Legion. Arcade's group goes to Sanctuary, and the Minutemen General sort of forces him to let her help. Six and Caesar rule Vegas like tyrants, with no shortage of crosses and bloodshed. Also on AO3, under /users/signal boi. Cover image is mine.
1. Chapter 1

The Red Rocket station meant that finally, at eleven o'clock at night, they were almost there. When Arcade had heard from travellers about a group in the north east who stood for people, and all people, he had to take the chance.

Six's dual reign of terror with the Legion over the Mojave got crazier and deadlier with every passing day. Even after Six had convinced them all to fight with her for the Legion, the Remnants agreed that, given the chance, they wouldn't have done so a second time.

He wasn't surprised that there were guards stationed outside of the settlement, especially since he was outfitted in the Gannon Tesla armor. They hadn't yet taken a group to Sanctuary Hills; Johnson had taken his group to a place called Sunshine Co-Op, and Orion's group went even further north than Sanctuary.

He twisted off his helmet and held it with his hands in the air, until the guards put their rifles down and someone stepped through the gate. He looked back at his six wastelanders and nodded to them, hoping to ease their nerves. Not that he could ease his own as who he assumed to be Sanctuary's representative walked up to them.

The man had a laser musket, and a folded hat on his head. He wasn't really threatening, but he wasn't welcoming either. Probably just for security. "Brotherhood or salvage?" He asked, motioning to Arcade with his musket.

"Excuse me?"

"Your power armor. Are you with the Brotherhood or did you salvage it?"

"Oh." How was he supposed to answer? The Enclave didn't really have a good reputation, anywhere. "Uh, I'm not with the Brotherhood. The armor was my father's. He wasn't Brotherhood, either. He, uh, he never told me where he got it." It wasn't a total lie. The rep looked him over once more, then at the settlers behind him.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you all. Preston Garvey, Commonwealth Minutemen. We're not usually so hostile with newcomers, but we've been having a serious problem with the Brotherhood lately, and your armor's not far off from theirs." Preston Garvey. Arcade recognized the name, probably from the same travellers who he overheard talking about the Minutemen to begin with.

"What's the problem? Do you need shelter for the night? Whatever it is, the Minutemen are happy to help." He stepped aside and gestured to the gate, and the six settlers eagerly ran inside. For the first time since leaving Zion, they all felt relatively safe.

"It's a bit more complicated than just shelter." Arcade put his hands down and held out his free hand to Preston to shake. "I'm Arcade Gannon. These people are looking for permanent refuge. Is that something you're able to offer? If there's not a lot of room here, we'd appreciate directions to a settlement that does."

Preston took his hand and shook it firmly, then smiled. An actual warm and inviting smile, another thing he hadn't seen in awhile. "We have plenty of room. You picked a good time to come, the General's here from the castle checking in on things. If you've got complications, she's the one you'll wanna talk to." Preston turned toward the gate and Arcade followed until Preston circled back to lock everything back up again.

The whole settlement was an impressive feat considering it's size. Most of the buildings were pre-war houses with other rooms and structures built on top of or around them. There was a quaintly decorated diner, an inn, and an armory among other things. He walked a little slower behind Preston to give himself time to take it all in under the warm, limited lighting.

Arcade's six settlers had already split up and taken to either speaking with other residents who were still awake or going straight to the inn. Already they seemed happy with their destination, so in turn, Arcade was pleased. He waved to them and they all waved back, like an unofficial goodbye and thanks. Preston led him to one of the better pre-war houses, one that didn't have a whole lot of extra structures around it. "I'll take you to General Hochberg tomorrow. She's already asleep, and we should be too. You can stay here for the night, Sturges and I share this house, so you're safest here with that armor and all."

He'd expected Preston's reasoning for keeping him close by were negative, and was pleasantly surprised that the man was only looking out for him considering their apparent relationship with the Brotherhood.

"Thanks." He didn't know what else to say. People hadn't ever really been his specialty, except for the other Followers, and Six. Preston had put down a bed roll for him while he shed his power armor, and there was even something resembling a pillow for him. How thoughtful. He was aware of faint snoring down the hall, so he assumed that the one named Sturges was already asleep. He didn't bother saying goodnight to Preston, as he wasn't really sure where he'd went. Either to his own room or out to the gate again. He really didn't care a whole lot.

Arcade put out the flame in the lantern by his bed roll, and lied down. He couldn't really sleep, but at least he tried.

* * *

"Preston mentioned complications. What's the matter, raiders? Super mutants? Whatever it is, we'll handle it. I promise."

General Nora Hochberg of the Commonwealth Minutemen was the last person Arcade expected her to be. She was decently built and scarred, but her face had so much more humanity than a lot of people he'd come to know in his life. Like she was really real. She wore the uniform and the hat with pride, but humble pride. She knew that she was helping people and she wanted nothing more.

They were all seated at a small table in the armory, himself, the General, and Preston. Arcade had requested his presence after how he'd helped the night before, and General Hochberg was more than happy to invite him to the table. However, the conversation was going a very different direction than Arcade had hoped.

"It's.. Um, I'm sorry if you got the impression that we came to ask for help. That wasn't the intention. My job here was to get this particular group to east coast safety, then go back for another group. There's really nothing you can do as far as the source problem." Nora frowned, and rapped her fingers against the tabletop. "I do need to let you know that these people have seen more than you can imagine. That's why we're evacuating them. It's the safest and surest solution."

"Arcade." She looked right into his soul and seemed to pick it apart with just her eyes. "I'd feel guilty if I let you go back to wherever you're from without helping. We've got more men than we need here, the majority of Boston flies our flag. Whatever it is, we've got the manpower and the resources to help." She sighed, and crossed her arms. "I'd never forgive myself if I just let you go back to wherever."

There were pros and cons to telling the Minutemen about Six and the Legion. If what Hochberg said was true, and they had the manpower to not only hold their positions here in Boston and aid him in the Mojave, it would probably make transporting Freesiders and wastelanders a lot safer and easier. But on the flip side, the Legion could prove to be too much. He'd have their lives on his hands, along with so many others.

"Alright." Arcade took a deep breath, and closed his eyes for a few moments. He could still see Six's face the day they met. Scar on her forehead, eyes wide and almost afraid of Freeside. She was young and inexperienced, and desperately needed help. Her eyebot never ceased to creep him out, but he dealt with it if it meant keeping this girl out of too much trouble. Then she'd met someone on the way. Then Six was gone.

"This group, I, uh… We're from the Mojave. Southwest, trip takes about three months considering the safest route is a bit out of the way. These people are from Freeside, it's a little district off the New Vegas Strip. They're-"

"You're from the Las Vegas area?" Hochberg cut him off. She tilted her head to the side a bit, and her lip twitched. Intrigue mixed with disgust. "I never liked Vegas. Nate wanted to go with me once, but we decided on Gettysburg instead. Much safer, less… influences. Sorry, go on."

She called it Las Vegas. No one called it that anymore, not even in his father's time. "Yeah. My father's friends and I took this on about a year ago. We've saved almost fifty people so far, but we have to keep going. There's… Uh, let me start from the beginning I guess. You need to know about Six."

Preston and Hochberg inquired as to 'six of what?', and Arcade almost laughed for a moment. But he didn't. Six wasn't a laughing matter anymore.

"No, that's… that's her name. Her name's Six." Blonde, brown eyes, decent looking, even if he didn't swing that way. "So, about six years ago, uh, no relation to her name… Six years ago, back around Vegas, in this little trading town called Goodsprings, there was this courier. She had a really important package but she didn't realize it, and she got shot in the head for it. The doctor in Goodsprings was really quite skilled, and he managed to save her, and it helped that Benny's a terrible shot. That's the one who shot her." He didn't talk about Benny Gecko much. Wasn't about to start.

"She woke up with no memory of before she got shot, so everyone just started calling her Six, in reference to the fact that she was the sixth courier on this delivery for Robert House. She turned into some sort of wasteland messiah, anywhere she went, she helped out. In return, all she asked for was any information on Benny. Where he'd gone, what he was doing, how long ago they'd seen him, anything to piece together how to get to Vegas. Then we met in Freeside."

Freeside had always been rough, Six would've never really been able to change that. What she contributed was kind at the time, though. "Being a sort-of amnesiac with little to no remaining knowledge of the tribes and factions of the area, I decided I'd tag along with her. We travelled the Mojave together for two years. We did a lot of good, hurt a lot of bad people, and she was very concerned with making sure every medical station we came across was properly equipped. The more memory she got back from her previous life, the more she remembered that she actually had extensive medical training. It was a blessing to my own faction, the Followers of the Apocalypse."

Julie was so thankful for everything Six had done. Set up a proper supply line, donated any chems she had on her at any given time. "She was my closest friend. But then she got this message, something intended only for her. She was supposed to meet someone in the wreckage of the Canyon. Alone. It was weird, because up until that point, we'd gone everywhere together. She got fed up with the factions of New Vegas trying to get her on their side, so we up and left for Zion valley for a few weeks. But when she left for the Canyon, she told me and her eyebot to stay behind. It was almost a year before I ever saw her after that. And when I finally found her again, she was roaming around the south cistern, and all she would say was that Ulysses had saved her life."

Ulysses was a known name in the wasteland. Most people assumed he was dead, but then again, most everyone had assumed Joshua Graham was dead also, but they'd met him and fought with him in Zion valley. "Ulysses was an ex-frumentarii, of Caesar's Legion. Have you heard of them?"

Hochberg and Preston looked at each other for a moment. "No, I haven't. Preston?" Preston thought for a moment, but couldn't confirm if he had or not. Arcade wasn't really expecting either of them to know, but he had to be sure.

"Right. Other side of the country. Caesar's Legion is a group of terrible people under a semi-decent man with skewed ideals. Well, it was just under him. Now Six is second in command. The Legion kills and tortures without question. Their favourite way of making an example of their enemies and heretics is crucifixion. Women are either slaves or toys to them, except for Six. The Legion wouldn't have had a chance at Hoover Dam without her. The NCR would've driven them out, possibly forever. But Ulysses did something to Six, something I still haven't been able to figure out. She helped them, she did Caesar's dirty work, she took out an entire bunker of Brotherhood soldiers and paladins on her own with no outside help. She assassinated President Kimball of the NCR. She killed Robert House. She tried to kill me.

The Legion won the dam because of her. Caesar had never taken a woman into his ranks before, and it seemed like she was the only exception. They won, Caesar took the Mojave. Raiding parties or simple patrols guard everything, take out random people for no reason in the middle of the day. All the surrounding independent tribes- the Khans, the Vipers, Jackals, even the majority of the Fiends, Caesar took them all and added them to his army. He stripped them of their cultural identity, turned them into Legionaries like the rest of his men. The entire Mojave is in complete chaos because of who she chose to side with."

He could still see her face in his mind down in that bunker with the rest of the Enclave remnants. When she started talking about Ulysses, he was sure that it meant she was even more opposed to the Legion then she had been. "She had asked the Remnants to fight for Caesar. I didn't know what to do after that, I couldn't speak to her. I just left. I went back to the Followers until the battle for the Dam. After the Legion won, the remnants came back to me and told me they'd never fight for Six again. It was then we decided we were going to have to do something about the people. Caesar would enslave or kill the majority of them for opposing the Legion, or, like we already saw before leaving Freeside, he crucified some just for the entertainment. A few merchants staying at the Followers' fort in Freeside overheard and mentioned you guys, the Minutemen who stand for everyone. Seeing as you were on the east coast as well, it seemed like the safest place to take these people. It's far from Caesar, far from Six, and your reputation for helping the needy precedes you."

He decided to finish his narrative there, to let the two of them process everything. To someone who hadn't been there, it was a lot to take in. A lot of names and places, factions and their doings. Six had turned into a monster, and he wasn't sure his retelling of her had really emphasized that. "I do want to reiterate that we didn't come to ask for help, only for refuge for these people."

"Three months, you said?" Hochberg rose from the table and walked off to another room of the armory, leaving Arcade and Preston to stare at each other. He could tell Preston was itching to ask a few more questions, but he was refraining for some reason. A moment later he opened his mouth to likely ask one of his questions, but Hochberg returned to the room with a map under her arm. She stretched it out over the table top, and grabbed a pebble off the ground to mark Boston. "This is us. Vegas, the Mojave, they're over here right?" She placed another pebble on the large text reading LAS VEGAS. "Here," she handed him a worn down pencil from her pocket, "can you draw the route you took? You said three months considering safety."

"Oh, yeah. Sure." He looked over the map for a moment, then started X-ing seemingly random locations and cities up through Utah, Idaho, Montana and the Dakotas. "We have a friend in Zion valley. Considering the Legion operates mostly out of Arizona, we agreed that going the straight line from there to here was too dangerous. We went up through Zion, hit Boise for shelter and supplies for a few nights, then went north through Helena and kept about a day away from the original States border." Then he drew a line between all the X's, and then from the final X's to the pebbles. "That's the way."

Hochberg studied the map for a good, long while. She nudged Preston in the arm as she pointed out some of Arcade's X's, and they whispered to themselves. It made him a little nervous, but she was the general of the Mintutemen. He didn't want to so easily trust her and Preston, but it felt like he already did.

"Would you be completely opposed to me and a group of close, skilled friends going back to Vegas with you?" She looked right into his eyes with no hesitation, and it felt like she was looking somewhere deeper. He so desperately wanted to say yes, but on the contrary, if it failed… If they died, it'd be on him. If any more people died because of the Legion, it'd be on him. He should've went with Six. He should've convinced her to stay with the Followers. He should've-

"Arcade?"

He'd zoned out, completely. It wasn't uncommon. "Sorry. Train of thought." She'd offered assistance. If she was General, she was probably highly skilled herself, and people like that generally have hand picked, equally skilled friends. At least, in his experience. "Who are your friends?"

She scoffed and shook her head. "I figured you'd ask. There's MacCready, he's generally a gun for hire, but he's been working exclusively with me for awhile. Then there's Paladin Danse, except, he's not really a paladin anymore. Brotherhood problems. And Hancock, he'd probably want to come. I bet Nick'll come along, he's a detective and he's a pretty good shot. I know Piper would want to come too, but she has Nat to take care of. Curie would be a good help, but I worry about her sometimes. Preston, I'll need you to stay with Shaw as placeholder generals. That alright?"

"Yes ma'am, fine by me."

Brotherhood paladin, guns for hire, detectives, and someone sharing the name of a founding father. Her friends seemed like an interesting bunch. "You're sure you'll all be able to handle yourselves? I really don't think you understand how dangerous the Legion is. I can read to you an itemized list of crimes against humanity in general that they've committed in the past decade, and I still don't think that would even begin to truly scrape the surface of their evils."

"I'm sure. Honestly, we might've handled worse in the past. I'll round them up tonight, and we'll leave at dawn. I'll send someone to get you up."

Before he could counter anything, she picked up and left the armory. Preston lingered in the doorway for a moment to wave, but he followed after her eventually.

* * *

 _Dear Six,_

 _I hope you haven't come to think of me any differently than you did before all this mess. I may have said some things about you that I wouldn't really be comfortable saying to you in person, but unfortunately, most of them are true. I trusted you more than I trusted anyone, and you stabbed me in the back. Doesn't mean I'm not still hoping for you, though. Maybe this is all just an elaborate trial. If only Joshua were here to listen to me quote his book: as it says in First Peter, "And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you." After all this is done, maybe you'll come back. Maybe you won't. Maybe my only reward for finally fighting back will be your final disappearance. Regretfully, that wouldn't be a bad thing._

 _Sincerely, your dearest friend,_

 _Arcade Gannon_


	2. Chapter 2

**Made a few edits.**

* * *

The sun through the window by his bedroll woke him up before Hochberg could. Arcade had actually slept a solid seven hours, and he felt rested enough to get up without his usual ten minutes of staring at the sky/ceiling contemplating the importance of his existence.

The sun wasn't too high, so it was likely still early in the morning. Maybe seven or eight. Hochberg had said dawn, but obviously she didn't follow through with that. Or, maybe she was busy and lost track of time. He rolled up the bedroll and placed it in the corner with the pillow, seeing as he wouldn't need it after today. He generally slept sitting up in his power armor; albeit it was the most comfortable, it was the safest.

He had just finished securing the last piece of the tesla armor when someone new knocked on the door frame. Green hat, coat befitting a merc.

"You're Arcade, right?" He awkwardly adjusted the strap of his rifle on his shoulder, suggesting intimidation or anxiety. Probably both.

"Uh, yeah. And you?"

"MacCready. Nora sent me to get you. She'll be back within the hour, but she told me to let you sleep a little bit, since you're our navigator."

So, Hochberg had left. He hadn't the slightest idea as to where, but she was the General, so she probably had business to attend to before leaving. She was in charge of a large amount of land and people, after all.

Arcade picked up the rest of his things (really just a notebook and a few writing utensils, plus some extra ammo) and stashed them inside one of the armor's storage compartments, and followed MacCready outside.

"Where'd she go?"

MacCready sighed, but it was extremely exasperated and almost sarcastic in nature. "The Minutemen and the Brotherhood have been clashing over this area for quite awhile now. She was hoping to call a temporary truce. Maxson's more likely to uphold his end of a cease-fire if he knows she's going off to do something noble of the sort. Maxson's a dick, but I'm pretty sure even _he's_ against crucifixion."

Maxson. He hadn't really expected to hear that name so far east, but with as large as they were, it wasn't a complete surprise. He was likely a descendant, otherwise, it was an extremely strange coincidence. _This_ Maxson didn't sound particularly pleasant, but then again, he hadn't had too many pleasant experiences with the Brotherhood in general.

"Good to know." Arcade mumbled. He mentally double-checked to make sure he'd grabbed everything of his. "So uh, what do we do until she gets back? I imagine she wouldn't be very happy if we left without her."

MacCready scoffed at him in the same fashion that Hochberg did. Perhaps one learned it from the other. "Yeah, she'd be pissed. She'd find us too, she always finds her friends." There was a few moments of tense silence between them. "You uh, wanna meet the others? We're gonna be your travelling buddies for the next few months, y'know."

Others. Hochberg had mentioned several friends, although, the only name he really remembered was Hancock, and only because of the historical reference. He pondered for a moment what the original founding fathers would think of their country now, destroyed and chaotic. They'd probably be pissed.

"Yeah, fine with me. Saves Hochberg the effort when she gets back." MacCready shrugged, either in agreement or indifference. He beckoned Arcade to follow him past the gate and towards the Red Rocket he and his settlers had passed last night.

"This is sort of the unofficial rendezvous for Nora and her friends. Sometimes we just hang out, other times she'll tell us to meet her here on a certain date, usually because she needs something. The rest of the team's already here, I just left to get you."

There were a few other people sitting and talking amongst themselves at the fueling station. There was a man who looked entirely like a robot, a ghoul in a red frock, and a man who looked almost ridiculously muscular. "Looks like an interesting group."

MacCready gave a curt wave to all of them at once, then gestured in Arcade's direction. "This is him. Arcade, this is Danse, Nick Valentine, and Hancock."

Awkwardly, Arcade waved to them, and he was at a complete loss as to what he should say. "Uh… Hi. I guess I should thank you?" These people _were_ risking their lives to help a random guy in Enclave armor. They probably deserved a lot more credit than he was able to really convey to them. "This is going to be dangerous, and you could lose your lives, but you came anyway."

The more robotic one stepped forward with his hand outstretched first. "Couldn't say no if that many people are in danger. Name's Nick Valentine." Arcade shook his hand, and he was thankful that Nick had given his more human(?) hand versus the metallic skeletal one. Was it still considered rude to ask someone what they were? He'd ask either MacCready or Hochberg when she returned.

"Danse, former Brotherhood Paladin. Pleasure to see someone else acknowledge the effectiveness of power armor, although, I must say it's been... a long time since I've seen anyone sport an Enclave X-01. Where'd you get it?" The muscly one nearly shoved Nick out of the way, and despite Nick's apparent disgust, Danse paid him no mind. "They're not so common anymore, you know."

Danse recognized his armor, too. The way he looked Arcade over made him extremely uncomfortable, almost like he was sizing him up. "Oh, uh, it was my father's. It was given to me." He hoped that one day he'd be able to tell them the truth and trust them not to despise him for his roots, but he couldn't be sure of their reactions yet. He'd hated keeping secrets from Six and he hated it all the same with his new travelling companions. Danse narrowed his eyes just slightly and looked him over again, head to toe, but he didn't say anything else. Already, Arcade suspected that things were going to be odd between them.

The only one who had yet to introduce himself was the ghoul. He had a terrifying smirk and a canister of Jet in his hand.

"John Hancock, Mayor of Goodneighbor. Proud to be a part of this liberation." He didn't offer his hand to shake, and instead just tipped his hat. "I can't stand tyrants. Hope we're on the same page there."

Arcade nodded and pursed his lips. Six was a tyrant. He hadn't explicitly used the term to describe her out loud, but he had always thought it. She'd taken to crucifixion as a pass time just like Caesar, and he could never decide if it disgusted him or wounded him.

There was a horrid, mechanic _whoosh_ -ing getting louder above their heads, and the shadow of a vertibird was cast over them as they looked up. It landed directly in front of Red Rocket, and Hochberg's feet had just touched the ground when it fired up and lifted off again. She strode over to the group, a little unsteady at first, but she caught herself.

"Before you can ask, it could've gone better, but, there is a truce." MacCready put his hand on her shoulder to steady her even more, but she brushed him off. "Maxson wasn't happy with me showing up to begin with. But, I plead our case, I told him about Arcade and the Legion and everything Arcade told me. It took a lot of convincing after that, but he finally agreed to a pliable truce. He and the Brotherhood will stop engaging for the entirety that I am away from Boston, as a show of humanity and honor."

She looked pleased. Now that everything was settled in Boston, they could set off. "What about supplies?" Arcade asked. He hadn't seen anyone packing food or water or medical tools of any kind, which worried him a little. Relying solely on settlements and merchants was risky and unreliable.

Hochberg directed Valentine and Hancock over to Red Rocket's building. "All in Red Rocket over there." They came back with six bags, one for each of them. "There should be three packs of food and water, one of stims, chems, and some soap, one of ammo, and the last one has tools for repairs and half our caps. The other half is distributed between me, Danse, and Mac for safety. We're gonna hit some major cities on the way, so hopefully we'll be able to resupply when we need to."

She really must have been at it long before she sent Mac to wake him up. That, or, she'd done it the day before, but when they left the armory yesterday morning, she'd run off to some place Preston called the Old North Church.

"Are we ready?" she asked. Most of them nodded, except Arcade. This was his last chance to back out, to tell them no and guarantee they'd keep their lives. Guarantee that the Mojave would be under Caesar's and Six's rule for the rest of their lives.

"Yeah. Let's go."

* * *

"Fucking _Freeside_!" She screamed. Her voice echoed and rang through the Lucky 38 casino, and any of the Legionaries on the strip probably heard her. She brought the crowbar down onto the boy's head with enough force to _finally_ smash his skull into the ground. Yeah, it'd stain the carpet, but there was blood almost everywhere anyway. "Why do some of you have to be so _fucking stubborn?"_ She hissed.

She beckoned one of her Praetorians where he stood at the doorway. "Find someone to clean this up, I'm not fucking doing it. And find me another one, but not a boy this time. They don't cry as much." He nodded, and walked out of the casino, leaving the other guard to stand alone by the door.

 _This isn't what I meant._

"Oh god, not again, god, not-"

 _Courier Six. This isn't what I meant._

"Get out of my _fucking head, you fucking psycho!"_ She swung the bloody crowbar at a random table, knocking it over and upside down. Six screamed at the top of her lungs, and it was blood-curdling. Her Praetorians had gotten used to it by then.

When she'd first started working for Caesar, she didn't notice it. She heard his voice in her dreams every now and then, echoing the same phrase over and over. _This isn't what I meant._ The longer it went on with the Legion, the worse it got.

Sometimes, his voice was so overpowering that she couldn't speak to anyone for the day. She'd stay in her suite, pillows around her head, screaming for him to leave. But he never did.

 _This isn't what I meant. This isn't what I meant. This isn't what I meant._

Getting into Caesar's favor was more difficult than she'd anticipated. She had a reputation for helping people like the NCR. But Caesar was aware that Vulpes' blood was on her hands. If she could take down the best of the Frumentarii, she was noteworthy in some way.

He started her off on small tasks to prove her loyalty, then eased her into larger and more dangerous jobs. Eventually, she took out President Kimball. Then, she led the attack on the dam on the same level of authority as Legate Lanius.

She was important. Too important to be plagued by a man she'd left behind.

 _This isn't what I meant._

" _SHUT THE FUCK UP!"_

* * *

 _Dear Six,_

 _We left Boston today. The General of the Minutemen reminds me a little of you after we left Zion. Head full of ideas, hopes and dreams. A strong desire to be the voice of the weak. Her friends are interesting, and they're a very tight-knit bunch. I'm afraid I won't fit in, but, something tells me I'll probably do just fine. We're coming for you, but it doesn't have to end in violence. How our next meeting ends is up to you. I don't want to hurt you. You and Daisy, you're the only family I've got left. Daisy doesn't have long. Please, I don't want to have to say the same about you._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Arcade Gannon_


	3. Chapter 3

**Hopefully this is better omfg**

* * *

Day ten. It was late evening, eight o'clock maybe.

There were only two raiders this time. Valentine and MacCready had them in their sights long before they actually attacked, but even when they did, it didn't last long. The second raider didn't even get one shot in before Valentine had a bullet through his brain. Although, Valentine was a good shot unlike Benny Gecko.

"Anything useful?" Mac emptied the shells and reloaded while Hochberg went digging through their clothes. It was a little strange, and frankly kind of disrespectful, but Six had done it too. Good way to resupply without losing the caps.

"Eh, two stims, thirty caps or so. That's all on this one." She stayed close to the ground and stepped closer to the other raider, who had a satchel of some kind around him. "This one's got purified water, two cans of pork and beans, another twenty caps, and some mentats." She immediately tossed the chem tin to Hancock, who caught it in one smooth motion. And he wasn't even looking up.

Hochberg had this look on her face, scrunched up and possibly disgusted. She shook it off a moment later, adjusting her hat to block more of the sun from her face.

"Something wrong, General?" Arcade didn't appreciate people hiding things from him. Whether or not that was a new development after Six's betrayal, he wasn't really sure anymore. He might've always been that way, just not aware of it until Six literally tried to put a machete through his neck.

The General nearly jumped out of her skin. She was in thought, then. "What? Oh, not really. Just hoping for some psycho. Raiders generally have two or three types of chems on them at any given time, and I may not usually be the chem type, but psycho would nice to have at the ready when we get to Vegas. I'd rather not have to spend caps on it if that can be avoided."

Psycho was a bit more dangerous than your run-of-the-mill buffout and mentats, at least in Arcade's experience. Seemed the most common addictions the Followers treated were jet and psycho. He never agreed with it's history, either.

"Arcade, while we're stopped, how close are we to Old Forge? I'd rather not camp out on the ground like last night unless we absolutely have to." MacCready barely got out the last part before he had to yawn. He didn't get as much sleep as the rest of them, being on the last watch shift. Didn't mean the rest of them weren't tired, either.

Arcade dug out the map from the Tesla's chest storage. It was getting a little wrinkled and worn, but it was nice to have. The map he'd taken to Sanctuary had been torn beyond repair on the way during a similar raider attack.

"Uh, not far I'm guessing. That's the Lackawanna we just crossed, right?" He pointed back to the dirty, irradiated river where they'd spent an hour trying to find a bridge that went all the way across. "I'm pretty sure it is, since we passed the Merle church a little bit ago. Assuming this is the Lackawanna, then we're only about a half hour away on this road. But, this isn't the exact route we took to get to Sanctuary, so I can't say I recognise the town."

Nick started back on the road first. "As long as there's shelter, it'll do." Arcade noticed he hadn't been smoking as much as he was when they'd first left. He'd learned a few days ago from Hochberg that he was a Generation 2 synth, a synthetic human. He didn't really need to eat or drink, or smoke for that matter. But he still did.

He was starting to really get to know the General and her friends. MacCready stuck around with Hochberg because she'd gone out of her way to save his son before her own. Valentine stuck around because not only had she rescued him during their introduction, but she helped him solve a very important case that he'd been stuck on for years. Hancock stayed because he and Hochberg had very similar ideals: both wanted the Commonwealth to be for the innocents, and the two of them together had rid the land of a lot of filth. Danse felt like he owed her his time and gun, since she saved his life from Elder Maxson.

Hochberg herself was still a mystery to him, though. She talked about old world things like she remembered them vividly. She spoke of her deceased son and husband, and how the fact that they were gone was for the best. Although he still wasn't sure how, she'd said her son was the head of group she'd been fighting since she rose to power. He'd expected her to say he was a Head Paladin of the Brotherhood or something similar, but instead he was the Director of the Institute, where synths like Nick came from.

He'd spoken to all of them quite a bit over the course of the passing days, except Danse, who seemed to be avoiding him just a bit. Anything and everything he'd learned about the ex-paladin was either told to him by Hochberg, or just overheard from Danse's conversations. It made him extremely anxious, but if he let that show, his suspicions could be proven true.

Finally they could read the writing on the upcoming wooden sign, which now obviously read "Old Forge". With the sun setting, lights were coming on here and there amongst the larger buildings. The small town was set up mainly on the road that they were on; the only buildings that weren't on the road looked like minimalist houses. Every house had a glowing fire going either in the front or back portion of it's yard, but most of them were unattended. A few of the larger buildings, which looked like churches or state houses, had full gardens growing around three of the four sides. About half of each garden grew several kinds of blooming, colorful flowers. From where they stood, Arcade couldn't identify any of the plants, only the colors, and even that was a stretch considering the limited lighting.

They passed a couple of crumbling buildings with no sign of life inside. Hochberg stopped in her tracks, holding her arm out to stop the ones immediately behind her.

"Why the hold up?" Hancock murmured, looking out into the mostly empty street. Hochberg didn't answer, and kept them at a halt for a few more moments. She put her arm down without a word, and just kept walking.

Mac tapped his fingers on Arcade's armor to get his attention. "Don't talk to her until she starts talking for herself. This kind of behavior means she's kind of distressed. Suspicious, on the lookout for something. I got an off feeling about this place too, but so did she. Just let her walk."

Hochberg walked over to a random junkie-type leaning against one of the crumbling walls. Their voices were indistinguishable, but a moment after Hochberg opened her mouth, the junkie attempted to slap his hand across her face. She snatched his wrist before he could, and promptly twisted it around his back until it cracked. He started whining, pleading mercy. He spewed something about a St. John's, and then she released him. Her "Thanks!" was audible, and she beckoned her friends over to her.

"This kindly genteman here says there's a place called St. John just around the corner where we can stay for the night. Ten caps per person, but we pulled almost that off those raiders a bit ago."

"You sure we can just leave him? Won't you get in trouble with the locals?" Arcade inquired. It was one thing for someone in Freeside to attack another Freesider, but they were strangers here. A wrong move could get them tossed.

Hochberg didn't answer him.

The inn itself was in bad shape. The walls weren't exactly crumbling down yet, but they could start to within a few years or so. The sign didn't actually have any painted letters on it anymore, rather just faded places and shapes that resembled some letters.

The double front doors were creaky, and the glass was cracked, even though it was all miraculously still in it's frame.

"Welcome to St. John's!" A girl, no more than fourteen, dashed into the lobby when she heard the doors open. She looked of mixed descent, and her eyes were still happy. Not yet glassy and hazed over by the trials and tribulations of the wasteland. "Name's Josie, I run this place. How many rooms we looking at? There's six of you?"

She jumped up onto the receptionist counter and slid across to the other side. There was a rather large book sitting open on her side of the counter, with what appeared to be names. Most of them were written like chicken scratch, but some were distinguishable.

Hochberg stepped forward with a handful of caps at the ready. She dumped them onto the counter and counted out six piles of ten, and slid them over to Josie with her arm. "Yeah, six. How many beds are in a room?"

"Generally three, but if you'd rather be in pairs or even by yourselves, we've got the room. You'd be our only tenants tonight. We don't see a lot of business."

"Three beds a room is fine. Do I need to sign this?" Hochberg motioned to the book.

Josie laughed for a moment, in a very childish and sing-song way. "You don't technically have to, but a lot of people do. They like to feel formal or something." Hochberg reached for the pencil sitting precariously near the edge of the counter, and wrote everyone's surnames in a very elegant cursive. Arcade hadn't seen someone write in cursive in many, many years.

"Alright! Let me just get Felix, he'll take you upstairs. Um, don't be offended by Felix. He just arrived a few days ago, and from what I hear, he comes from a pretty bad area." Josie poked her head around the door frame that she'd emerged from, and asked for Felix to "c'mere".

Felix looked a few years older than Josie, maybe just eighteen. His face was narrow and angular, his eyes dark and sunken into his skull. Definitely had seen some things. "Follow me, I'll point you to the open rooms." He pushed past the group without looking at them and started up the stairs. Hochberg had almost lost him around the corner with how quickly he moved. Eventually they all found him standing and waiting outside two adjacent rooms, doors open and lights on.

"These are your rooms. Sleep well. Goodnight." He didn't say a word after that, and promptly disappeared down the stairs again.

The group exchanged awkward glances with each other. Danse cleared his throat to break the silence, but only for a moment.

"Well, he was interesting. Bad backgrounds create bad attitudes." Nick offered, whispering. Didn't want the kid to hear them.

"Yeah, charming." Hochberg quipped. She started pointing at the other five of them, and whispered some things to herself before pointing at both open rooms. "Alright. Mac and Danse, you're in my room. Arcade, you're with Valentine and Hancock. Considering past conflicts, this is the best way to split up. Three bags go into each room, and whoever has caps on them keeps them. Keep your guns out and ready. Nick, keep an eye out." She stepped toward the left room and let Mac and Danse go through first. "Good night, you three. See you tomorrow morning."

Arcade was the last one into their room, so he shut the door behind him. Nick had already shed his coat and hat and laid them down by one of the mattresses. Hancock just picked a mattress and sat down, not bothering to do anything about his clothes. The three travel bags they were in charge of sat in their own corner of the room.

"Well, I'm going to sleep I guess." Arcade had already stripped out of his power armor, since he had the chance to sleep on an actual mattress.

"Can I ask you something first, Arcade?" Hancock was still just sitting on his bed, another jet canister in his hand. Arcade hadn't even heard him use it.

Nick shook his head and grumbled something, pulling up the room's only chair. He opened the door and placed it outside against the wall, then turned off the lights to their room. "Can it wait til morning, John? Everyone's tired, I wouldn't be surprised if Nora's already out by now."

"Yeah, I mean, it can, but," he paused for a moment to get up and pull back the sole window's curtains, "I didn't think it would be something you'd wanna talk about in front of everyone. I thought maybe you'd appreciate the smaller audience, if you even wanna answer it."

Personal question. He reserved his right to decline, but especially with Six, he wasn't very good about actually using that right. "Go for it."

"Thanks. I was just curious. You and this Six, you weren't like, together, were you? I'm not saying that's a bad thing either way, you just talk about her pretty fondly, even though she's the source of this chaos."

He and Six? _Together?_ That was another instance where, under normal circumstances, he would've laughed himself blue in the face. But not now. "Uh, no. We weren't. I thought of her as more of a littler sister than anything else. She uh, she was sort of involved with a few other people as far as I knew. I don't know if she is right now." He didn't really give Hancock the chance to respond. "I'm going to sleep now. Goodnight."

Hancock kept his eyes on Arcade for a moment longer before lying down. He honestly wasn't sure if the navigator was lying or not. Nick nodded to the both of them before stepping out into the hall, leaving the door cracked open.

Arcade wasn't lying, though. Six had been romantically involved with a few people while he'd travelled with her, but never two people at once. She'd had something of a "summer fling" with Joshua while they were in Zion, and he was almost certain that the Kings let her join because of her at-the-time relationship with Pacer. Then there was Private Stone of the NCR, who she'd "dated" for a bit after she'd worked him through his hydra problem. If he recalled correctly, there'd also been the few one night stands with the receptionist at Gomorrah.

None of her involvements lasted longer than a few weeks. She always went back to wandering the wastes with Arcade because she was a wanderer at heart. Or rather, she had been.

* * *

A few raps on the door drew Hancock and Arcade out of sleep fairly quickly. The door creaked open a moment later, and Josie poked her head in while Nick stayed in the hallway. "Good morning you two! Rise and shine, hope you slept well! I wanted to wake you up to make sure you got breakfast before you left. On the house, since you're our only guests at the moment! Just come downstairs when you're ready, your friends are already on the way!"

She left, and Nick took her place in the doorway. Hancock still looked pretty tired, and Arcade was feeling particularly restless, but he couldn't place why. Maybe the lingering suspicion from the night before, or maybe he'd had a nightmare about Six he didn't remember having.

There wasn't anywhere else he felt comfortable leaving his power armor, so he decided to just put it on and maybe stand while he ate. Once he and Hancock were dressed and had their bags, Nick led the way down the stairs. When they'd come into the lobby the night before, he hadn't noticed the doorway to the right of the counter, likely because the doors were probably closed. The stairs were to the left and presumably Josie and Felix's room was behind it. Now the doors were open, and the rest of their posse sat at a long wooden table. There was a small refrigerator and a stove, and a few counters and a sink, but that was all. It was a small kitchen.

Hochberg sat closest to the open doorway, with Danse at her side and Mac across from her. The three of them already had plates of some kind of meat and mashed vegetable. Josie was tending to the stove while Felix wiped down some empty plates. "Best we've got is Insta-Mash and some mole rat. I know it's not a five star pre-war breakfast, but I hope it helps you on your way anyway." Josie scooped some Insta-Mash from the stove onto the plates and let Felix cut some more mole rat for them.

Arcade sat down next to MacCready, and Hancock took the seat to his right. Nick stayed standing, and insisted to Felix that as a non-human, he couldn't really consume the food anyway. The kid looked mildly frustrated, but he wasted no time in getting Hancock and Arcade their plates. He gave Nick's plate back to Josie.

"Are you sure Mr. Valentine? I'd feel pretty guilty if I let you walk away with an empty stomach," she pleaded, sort of shaking the plate in his direction.

"Positive. I'd rather not explain the details, if that's alright with you." He tipped his hat to her, and finally, she and Felix gave up trying to sucker him into having breakfast.

She cocked her head in confusion, then shook it off and turned back to the food. "Suit yourself, Mr. Valentine." She scraped the Insta-Mash spoon on the side of the pot, then reached for some cups under the counter. "Purified water, anyone?" Everyone made some sort of noise in agreement, so Josie sat one cup in front of everyone's plates.

It only took three bottles to give everyone a fair share, and after yesterday, the drink was welcome. It was a good feeling to not have to draw from their own stash and know that they probably wouldn't need to drink again until their next rest stop.

The next half hour was spent eating and exchanging questions. Josie had a lot of questions about Arcade's armor, although, mostly about it's use and how he kept up with it. Contrary to most people, she seemed disinterested in where it came from, to his relief. A few more personal questions were thrown around, mostly about where he was from, his family, his life with the Followers and so on. Most of them he deflected, or answered curtly.

Arcade hadn't really noticed the chatter die down until the room was silent. He'd been getting sluggish and sleepy for the past ten minutes or so. It was painful to keep his eyes open, like last night's sleep hadn't been nearly enough. He figured he'd eaten too much, and this was his body's reaction to the "feast" they'd been given. Josie was in the process of collecting and washing their breakfast dishes, and Nick was making light conversation with her and Felix.

"Nora, when are we leaving? I'm actually kind of sleepy all of a sudden." MacCready yawned a moment after he spoke, and his movements seemed lethargic. Hancock had his head propped up on the table with his hand, and it didn't look like Hochberg was having an easier time.

Arcade was starting to lose control of his own body. He vaguely heard Danse attempt to shake him awake, but once his eyes had shut, he lost all his other senses.

* * *

"Arcade? God dammit, Hochberg… What the hell?" Danse had noticed early on that the four non-synths of their party seemed to be lacking in energy. Hancock was the first to really pass out, and MacCready after him. Hochberg and Arcade had been trying to fight it off, but in the end, they were out, too.

Felix kept his eyes on Danse and Nick for an uncomfortably long time. After they'd given up shaking their comrades awake, he nudged Josie's shoulder. She gently set down the large pot she'd been washing, and wiped her hands on her apron.

"I'd expected to be dealing with Mr. Valentine, but not with you, Mr. Danse. How'd you resist?" She turned away from the sink, smile still wide and tone still innocent. "I don't know what you are, Mr. Valentine, but you're not human. What about you, Mr. Danse? I hope it's not rude to ask."

Nick had started to inch away from the door and into the lobby, hoping to give himself time and space to use his weapon, but Josie's eyes stayed locked onto him like a radscorpion stalking it's prey.

"What the hell did you do to them?" Danse kept a hand on Hochberg's shoulder, the other in a fist at his side. He should've reached for his own gun, he knew he'd have the time and the skill to use it quickly and efficiently. The only thing stopping him was the fact that these were kids. The girl was barely a teenager and the boy could hardly be called an adult, if he even was one. And there was no telling whether or not anyone was outside waiting, and if there was, killing off someone's kid (if she even had parents) probably wouldn't go in their favor.

"Felix, tell the cavalry we've got two to deal with instead of just Mr. Valentine. Make sure they're prepared." Felix stared at her for a moment, as if deciding what he should do, but eventually he obeyed. Nick didn't try to stop him from leaving the room, it probably wouldn't have done much anyway.

Josie clapped her hands together in front of her face, then motioned towards the table. "Now, if you'd like, this can be really easy. You can sit down, get comfortable, and don't resist. The hard way's fun though, if you're into that sort of thing." She reached behind her and pulled a .22 from somewhere on her dress. "It's not personal, really. It just so happens there were six of you and we only needed one."

* * *

 _Dear Six,_

 _We've been in the Pennsylvania Commonwealth for two days now. You would've really liked Hochberg's friends. They're all connected in very strange ways, but at the same time, it makes them like an inseparable family consisting of one very strong willed woman, four other men, and now me. Have you ever had the chance to read anything by Robert Frost? I almost wish I would've brought my book with me from the Mojave. A lot of the pages were burned, but there were still a few poems in tact. There's been one in my mind lately, reminding me of you. "When a friend calls to me from the road, and slows his horse to a meaning walk, I don't stand still and look around, on all the hills I haven't hoed, and shout from where I am, 'What is it?' No, not as there is a time to talk. I thrust my hoe in the mellow ground, blade-end up and five feet tall, and plod: I go up to the stone wall for a friendly visit." I read that poem enough while we were still thick as thieves that I can't seem to get it out of my mind. I hope that when you get this, you'll think it over like I have. It's really a lot deeper than the surface lets on. I really miss you,_ nuntius _. I keep thinking that one day I'm going to wake up by a campfire and you'll be sitting across from me, humming something the Dead Horses taught you. It won't happen, but, I still like to dream._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Arcade Gannon_


End file.
